


Temporary Scars

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Porn, Donna has intimacy issues, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy Kink, Sub Dean, Trope Reversal, self-sabotage, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Donna has intimacy issues, Dean's patient and sweet, and Benny's swoony as fuck.Squares Filled: Trope Reversal, Touch Starvation, Sub Dean, Polyamory, AUShip: Donna x Dean, Benny x Dean, Donna x Dean x BennyRating: ExplicitCreated for @spnkinkbingo





	1. Chapter 1

“Dean, can you pick up your underwear, please.”

We were at the tail end of one of our on-again stints in our more than seven years of friends with benefits. Between Dean’s utterly random and intermittent need for a “real relationship” and my very consistent need for space (read: fear of intimacy) we spent more time off than on.

“Relax,” he said, plucking the offending garment from my hand. “When don’t I pick up after myself?” Dean folded and packed his boxers into his duffle before zipping it closed. “I made coffee, princess.” He turned to look at me, a teasing smile on his lips and a twinkle in his pretty eyes, and I felt guilty.

Dean was always looking out for me. We’d had each other’s backs since basic training. He was there when my dad died, and I was there when his brother had brain surgery. He was the kindest person I’d ever known, and I was a closed-off mess of a girl. He had endless patience with me, and I would snap at him for the smallest things.

“I hate it when you call me that,” I sneered, passing him on my way to the kitchen.

“Touchy, touchy,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.

The night before had been a long one. Dean went down on me for 20 minutes, made me come twice before finally fucking me. He always liked the feeling of pushing inside while I was coming. He said it was an intimate kind of pleasure.

To me, it was the deepest penetration – too deep. He’d love me so well, it left me exposed, and I didn’t know how to recover from that. I’d just end up walking around like a raw nerve, everything was too loud, too sharp, too bright.

When I got to the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks.

He’d made eggs.

“Dean…” I sighed.

“What?” he asked, shuffling sock-footed past me to pour another cup of coffee for himself. He’d been up since 6am, had already been for a run, and, apparently, made breakfast for two. “Want some eggs?” he asked, turning to face me, crossing his feet at the ankles and leaning casually against my apron front sink.

His hair was still damp from his shower, and my body still ached from his efforts the night before. Every lick and nip and touch, every thrust, every squeeze left me tender and bereft. I’d be feeling it for days – in more ways than one.

“I need a break,” I said. My voice was quiet and I couldn’t look him in the eye, which was silly because I’d done the exact same thing so many times through the years. I’d need a break, and Dean would find comfort in someone else’s arms/bed.

When I finally dared look at him, his eyes were narrowed and lips pursed. “You sure about that?” he asked just as quietly as I had stated my needs.

He always asked that same question, always with such intent, always boring into my soul. Quite simply, I did not deserve him; and he didn’t deserve me.

I nodded, and he pushed away from the sink, setting his steaming mug aside. His long legs carried him over the several feet between us in three strides. When he stopped in front of me, he reached up to push my hair over my shoulders then took my face in his hands.

“Last night was too much, huh?” he said, looking into my eyes as they pricked with tears. “Sorry, D.” He dipped his head to kiss me and my hands gripped his wrists, letting him deepen the kiss as much as he wanted, sinking into it myself.

Yeah, it was the same every time. Dean would push inside my body and my heart and my soul, he’d start to nest, and then I’d freak.

Back in the early days, I’d do things like, fuck some other guy and leave the condom in the trash until Dean would come to visit. Or I’d pick a fight over something petty then make it personal, say things I didn’t mean and couldn’t take back. Self-sabotage was my go-to until Dean informed me that it was unnecessary – that all I had to do was tell him that I needed space.

“I’ll get my stuff,” he muttered against my lips then pulled away. It was all I could do not to chase him, tell him I lied, that I didn’t mean it, that I wanted him to stay – always. But I’d already set the next phase in motion.

I crossed the kitchen to lift a mug from its tree and filled it with French Roast. I was sitting at the peninsula, trying to distract myself with my news feed when he reappeared, duffle over his shoulder, all three layers of clothes in place.

“I put the sheets in the washer,” he said, looking around the kitchen. “You’re out of laundry detergent.” His gaze fell back on me, and I felt small. Like, physically, his expression me made me feel like curling into the tiniest ball and disappearing.

In his gaze were pain and regret – a little more every time we did this dance. One of these days, Dean would lose all that infamous patience of his and never come back. One of these days, I’d call and he wouldn’t come.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Thanks,” I said. Before either of us could say anything more on the matter at hand, I said, “see ya at the briefing.”

Dean’s jaw worked as if he were about to say something then thought better of it. “Yeah,” he replied. “See ya, D.”

Then he turned on his booted heel and left.


	2. Chapter 2

I knew that Donna would come around at some point; she always did. I didn’t know that it would be so soon, though. So, when she showed up on my doorstep at 10:30 on a Tuesday night, not even three weeks after our last time together, I was surprised.

“Mind if I come in?” she asked. When I didn’t answer right away, she lifted the 6-pack of porter into view. “It’s your favorite.” Her smile was sly, tone deaf in its attempt to make me forget my heart.

But it wasn’t Donna’s fault. I was the one who always let her back in. Hell, I was the one who’d come up with the concept of her coming and going as she pleased while I waited around like an obedient Labrador.

“Of course,” I said, moving out of the way and letting her brush past me.

She looked good. Warm, casual, hair piled in a loose mess on top of her head, frayed and faded jeans that I knew from experience were soft as brushed flannel from years of wear. She smelled good and moved so smoothly that I was almost fooled.

“Oh,” she stopped dead in her tracks, then, tensing and riveting her gaze on the path to the kitchen. “You’ve got… company.”

I watched her silently shift between fight or flight and closed in behind her. Part of me wanted her to fly before we fell back into the groove we always fell into. Another part of me, the deepest, oldest part that always let us fall so easily into that groove, hoped that she’d fight, even if I had to push her to do it.

“You know Benny,” I said.

Donna turned abruptly to face me, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called first.” She dropped her racing eyes to the floor then darted them to the wall, all the while gripping the handle of the 6-pack like it was a lifeline.

I moved in and she shifted back, but I didn’t let her run. “It’s fine,” I said, dipping my head to try and catch her wandering eyes. “We’re just cleaning up dinner, about to watch a movie if you wanna join.”

“I dunno, Dean, I-”

“What’re we in the mood for?” Benny waltzed out of the kitchen, flip-flop-footed and pre-occupied by his phone. “Oscar nominees, or somethin’ lighter?” He stopped and took in the scene unfolding in front of him.

Donna looked small and meek, apologetic. I was kind of amazed by the turn of events because Donna was anything but meek.

“Donna,” Benny greeted her with an obvious edge in his tone.

“I didn’t…” Donna seemed to be searching for words.

I watched her flounder in reaction to Benny’s presence. Then it hit me – Donna had never really seen me with another lover. Sure, we’d had that threesome with that stripper in Baltimore last summer, but that was a one-night stand.

Benny stayed cool. Not hostile, not angry, just… aware.

“It’s your favorite beer, Dean,” Benny said with a knowing smile.

I’d told him about Donna and me. About our history and my inability to ever tell her ‘no’ and subsequent doormat tendencies. In less than a month, Benny had shown me what it felt like to be cared for, trusted, and treated like an equal. He had shown me that it was OK to be angry with Donna, even if I loved her. Benny was the only reason I felt like I could let her in that night.

He held my gaze when he addressed Donna again. “Stay, cher,” he said, eyes softening. “We get cozied up and watch a flick.” He pocketed his phone and crossed the room to the sitting area, turning on the TV and pulling up Netflix.

I reached for the 6-pack. “Here, lemme put these in the fridge,” I said softly, as not to startle her further. She flicked her gaze to mine, full of apprehension and regret. “Really, you should stay.” I lightly gripped her opposite wrist as she relinquished the beer. “Go get comfortable. I’ll bring you a beer.” I smiled as reassuringly as I could muster, and she nodded, her eyes darting to the sectional, where Benny was settling in dead-center.

“OK,” she said, taking a deep shaky breath and squaring her shoulders.

“OK,” I echoed, squeezing her wrist before heading to the kitchen.

I took my time, debating over what I’d find when I returned to the living room. I poured a glass of wine for Benny and two beers, one for me and one for Donna. I could hear Benny’s smooth drawl, floating from the living room and it calmed me.

By the time I returned to the living room, they’d decided on Black Panther, which they both knew I’d never argue with.

Donna was perched on the edge of the far end of the couch, opposite the corner section. I set her glass in front of her, handed Benny his wine, and walked around to burrow into the corner of the sectional.

One 6-pack, a half a bottle of Malbec, and one hour into Wakanda and I was feeling more at ease. It was Benny’s doing – Benny, serving as a buffer and a bond. I’d stretched out, my feet in his lap as he rubbed them, and Donna had relaxed back into the cushions beside him, almost resting her head on his shoulder.

“God, Michael B. Jordan, could throw me over a cliff any time, I mean,” Donna groaned.

I knew that sound well. As surprised as I was by her apparent contrition, sexualizing any given situation was Donna’s MO. She may have come to apologize, but it’d be in her own way, and I was curious to see how it would roll out with Benny in the mix.

“Right?” Benny agreed with her.

“You two,” I chuckled and shook my head.

“Oh, like you don’t agree,” Donna said, leaning forward enough to see me blush. “I know your type, Dean.” She smirked then nuzzled closer to Benny.

I didn’t have a type and she knew it. She was playing. She was flirting with Benny, too, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, he seemed to like it a lot.

“I see no similarities between you, Benny, and Killmonger, but go off, I guess,” I huffed another laugh before downing my beer.

After a few moments, I felt Donna’s gaze heavy on me. When I turned to look at her, she licked her lips and her eyes darkened. “Would I be, I dunno, objectifying you, or like fetishizing you if I asked you guys to kiss?”

I couldn’t look away from her then.

“Prob’ly,” Benny answered, then caught my eye. “Do we care?”

The thought of Donna  _just watching_  us was a revelation. It was an opportunity. I wanted her to see something. I watched her reaction as I shook my head to answer Benny then turned back to her.

“You wanna watch, sweetheart,” I asked, pulling my legs from Benny’s lap, swinging my feet to the floor, then leaning into him. “You can watch.” I nodded my head and took in her reaction to my words. “And only watch.”

Her eyelids fluttered and her breath shook. “OK,” she whispered.

I turned my head, and Benny was on me. He gripped my face in his hands and consumed my mouth. I couldn’t help the sounds I made. Benny did that to me – overwhelmed and hyper-stimulated me. That’s what I wanted Donna to see.

I wanted her to see in me what I so often saw in her, what I did to her. I wanted her to see that it wasn’t scary, that it was beautiful to fall apart, to come undone under someone you trusted with your body and soul.

“Dean,” Benny groaned and grasped at my hips, pulled me till I was sitting astride his lap. I ground down over him and we both gasped. Then his teeth were scraping my neck and clavicle.

Donna had turned to face us, her back to the arm of the couch, knees up and arms wrapped around them. I knew her well enough to know that she was turned on, but there was something else there – jealousy, maybe, desperation and desire, definitely.

Benny murmured things in my ear loud enough for Donna to hear – dirty things and heavy things. It was difficult not to completely lose myself in him as I had grown so used to doing, but I needed to stay focused on Donna being a part of it, if only from afar.

“Want my mouth?” I asked Benny, shifting backward to work his belt and pants open.

Benny shook his head and pulled me in for another kiss. He held me just right, close and warm and strong, and kissed me deep and slow. I let my hands wander, touching him and drawing the sounds I loved to hear, that spurred me on. We were in sync, as usual, and showing Donna something important.

“You sure you want Donna just to watch?” Benny asked and I felt more than saw her shift beside us. “Maybe you let  _me_  play a little?”

I pulled back and held his gaze for a few beats, searching. He knew what being with Donna again meant to me, and I was pretty sure he knew I wasn’t ready to do it myself. We were skirting the edge, but I trusted Benny. I trusted that he would do the right thing.

“Yeah,” I said, climbing off of him and sitting my ass back on the coffee table. I needed some space for what was about to take place. “D, you wanna be good for Benny?”

When I caught her eyes, there was a shine in the narrows – unshed tears. She was twisted inside out already, and neither of us had even touched her.

She took a deep breath. “What about you?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’ll be over here.”

Donna looked to Benny, then, and I could see her walls start to slip. She was needy, eyes pleading as they traveled back to mine. She nodded, unfolded her small frame and Benny moved in.

I didn’t know Benny could be so gentle. He touched her in all the places I’d never told him that she loved. He whispered all the things I knew she loved to hear. Then, when he finally pushed inside her, it was  _my_  name on her lips.

“Oh, cher,” Benny said, kissing her mouth and nipping at her jaw. “I know you wish I was him, but I’m gonna make you feel so good. Just stay with me.”

Benny’s words and Donna’s eyes, their sounds, made me so hard and wanting them both.

“Dean,” Benny breathed. “She feels like heaven – soft and full and wet. Hot.” He buried his mouth in her neck and thrust into her hard, ground against her, and made her grunt and moan.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around him, hooking her ankles at his back. She grit her teeth and stared me down. “Fuck me.”

Benny wasn’t about to disappoint. He picked up his pace, pushed up onto his hands and railed into her. Before I knew what was happening, I had my pants open and my dick in my hand, pumping furiously.

“Dean,” Donna whined, shutting her eyes tight. “Oh,  _god_.” She dug her fingernails into Benny’s shoulders and bucked against him, rough and panting. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, Dean.”

They came together as I watched, sweating and gasping. Donna sobbed my name and grappled at Benny, who held her and rocked her. Moments passed before Benny glanced over his shoulder at me.

He smiled, satisfied and open, pushed up off of Donna and she whimpered. “Get in here, chief,” he said, kneeling and dragging a reluctant hand over Donna’s dewy breasts and belly. “You both need it.”

I had my clothes off in seconds, climbed between her legs and settled in. Her sigh was the most beautiful thing I’d heard in weeks. Her hands on me were so sweet. I couldn’t touch her enough, couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Just as I finally buried myself inside her, Benny covered us in a blanket then crossed the room to take a seat in the armchair.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed against me, kissing, licking, lips pulling mine into her wet mouth. “You feel so good,  _so right_.”

I started to move, out and back in, feeling the drag of skin in skin. She was swollen, full and wet from Benny. And she was trembling like I’d never felt her before.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears falling wet and salty.

I nodded. “I know,” I said, covering her mouth with mine again. “Just let me make you feel good. Feel good together.”

Things changed that night – forever. And none of us ever looked back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a time jump. Herein also lies implications of pregnancy kink.

It’s been six months. Donna’s still pretty squirrelly at times, but Dean and I have a system down. And we both get her. 

We both get that she wants her independence and her alone time. She doesn’t want to be seen as reliant on anyone, let alone a man. Dean told me about how her daddy just up and left her and her mom at an early age. He took everything – money, moral support, and the love and affirmation that Donna so desperately seeks to this day.

Sometimes she likes to be told what to do, though. Sometimes she doesn’t want to be in charge or in control, and we take turns playing her like a delicate Stradivarius. She likes being tied up and teased, edged until she’s in tears. As much as it infuriates her, she  _ thanks _ us afterward, during aftercare. She feels like she needs an excuse to accept gentleness and kindness – things she thinks she doesn’t deserve any other time.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ yes, Dean,” Donna moans, her back arching away from my chest as I hold her in place, propped up against the headboard, holding her arms at her sides so she can’t touch him. 

Her legs are open wide and draped over my thighs, her hips tipped upward. She’s restricted so that Dean can do anything he wants to do to her. Right now, he’s licking her, pushing my cum further inside her, one finger at a time. 

He  _ loves _ eating her pussy. It drives her fucking crazy, too. She hates how much she loves it. Sometimes he spends almost an hour down there, just licking and sucking and fucking her with his fingers and toys, making her come until she cries real tears.

“Smells like she been fucked six ways to Sunday,” I mutter, graze her throat with my teeth and pull her open wider by spreading my own knees.

“Coz she has been,” Dean says with a chuckle in his tone. “And she just keeps takin’ it.” He climbs up to kneel, his hand buried in her wet, squelching mess of a pussy. “Don’tcha, sweetheart?”

Dean grins wide, his face a mess from her cum and mine. He drags his free hand down over his mouth and chin to clean his face before dipping in to kiss her. 

“You took Benny’s dick and my fingers and all these toys,” he speaks quietly, and I’m getting hard again. “Gotta keep all that cum inside you, though, baby doll.”

Dean presses her between us as he brings his mouth to mine, let’s me taste her and myself.

“Now you’re gonna take me,” he says against my lips, but he’s talking to Donna.

She whimpers. “Benny, please,” she begs, struggling so I’ll let her arms free. 

I do. I let her free. Then I watch her push Dean to his back and climb astride his hips. He laughs and throws his arms wide as she settles over him, each of them groaning.

“This isn’t exactly the optimal position,” Dean says before finally running his hands up her thighs and over her hips. Donna tosses her wild hair back, braces her hands on Dean’s ribcage and starts to ride him, slow and grinding.

“You can flip me if you want,” she says, breath labored.

I stroke myself as I watch these two gorgeous people I love, making love, loving each other. 

“Go ahead and ride me, baby,” Dean says with a dreamy smirk, and Donna answers with a nod and a huff of laughter.

“I just can’t decide,” she breathes as she picks up her pace. “If I wanna feel Benny in my ass or watch him fuck yours.” She grunts when Dean grips her hips hard. “Don’t wanna be selfish and take all the dick.”

I grunt in response. “Nah, I think I want ‘is mouth,” I say as I crawl toward Dean. “You were hoggin’ this pretty face for so long, I missed it.”

Dean licks his lips and flicks his eyes up to meet mine, reaches for me but keeps a hand twined with Donna’s. And, I swear to God, every time he looks at me – really looks at me – it takes my breath away.

I push my fingers into the soft, thick of hair on top of his head as he guides me inside his hot mouth. He swirls his tongue around the whole thing and then swallows me down. I love Dean’s mouth – the way it looks, the way it tastes, and the way it feels. I love the sounds he makes and the timbre of his voice.

I fall to all fours across him and fuck into his throat. Donna runs a hand from the nape of my neck to my waist as she rides Dean, and I drop my head. “Love you both so much,” I whisper.

I’ve said it before. Dean’s said it, too. Donna finds her own way to say it by staying, by not leaving, by always being here with us. 

“Come inside me, Dean, please,” she breathes. “I wanna feel you.”

That does it for me. That’s everything. 

I want her full of both of us. I want her to want it. I want her to take everything we give and love it.

And,  _ God _ , do I want her pregnant. We both do. She wants it, too.

I groan and pull out of Dean’s mouth and jerk myself until I’m coming on his smooth chest. Then Dean grips her hips and rolls her to her back, lifts her legs by the backs of her knees and thrusts into her hard. 

“Come on, knock me up,” she says with a goofy smile, breathless, pushing her fingers into the glorious mess of hair fanning around her flushed face.

“Shit,” Dean whispers, bliss tinging his own face as he comes with a growl.

~~~~~~~

“We’re lucky, ya know that?” I ask Dean as we’re leaving work.

No one asks about our relationship with each other or with Donna. No one asks if we’re single or dating. Other people in the precinct have families; and, at the end of the day, I think everyone just wants to go home to theirs.

Dean nods and hums. “For?”

“Us,” I answer, rounding to the passenger’s side of the Impala as Dean slides behind the wheel. “Donna,” I continue. “Never dreamed I’d have somethin’ like this – ever.”

Dean looks thoughtful as he starts the engine and pulls out of the lot. He doesn’t speak right away, and I’m used to that. He doesn’t say a lot, but when he does, he means what he says, and the words are important.

About two blocks down the road, he speaks. “I’ve always wanted a family,” he says. “For as long as I can remember, I wanted it with Donna.” The corner of his mouth twists upward and his eyes crinkle at the edges as he keeps his gaze on the road ahead. “But, no, I never thought… I never thought I could have  _ this _ as well.” 

He swallows slow and thick then shoots me a look, reaches for my hand, then turns his eyes back to the road. We lace our fingers together for the rest of the drive, stopping at the grocery store.

“What’s our Queen want tonight?” I ask as Dean parks in a spot close to the entrance.

“Rocky Road,” Dean answers with a snort. “She’s always hated marshmallows. When I reminded her of that she told me to ‘stuff it’.”

I laugh in answer and shake my head as I climb out of the car. “OK, and steaks for the grill?”

Dean nods, pulling his buzzing phone from his pocket. “And something green, please?” He shoots me that look.

Dean’s a balanced meal, everything in moderation guy. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen him go overboard or imbalanced in any way is the way he is with Donna now that she’s showing. He can’t keep his hands off of her, wants her all the time. He gets hard just looking at her.

I grab the makings for dinner, Donna’s pint of Rocky Road, and a six-pack and run through the self-checkout. By the time I get back to the car, it’s already idling. Dean’s red-faced, biting his bottom lip, and palming his dick over his uniform pants.

“Oh, man,” I say, folding into the seat and slamming the door. “What’d she send you?”

“Fuckin’ video, usin’ a dildo on herself,” Dean seethes, and I try not to laugh out loud. He slams the car in reverse and practically burns the tires flipping the car around and screaming from the lot. “Her belly and her tits, just – _fuck_!”

“Hooooo,” I let out a breath.

It’s gonna be another one of those nights, I just know it.


End file.
